My children would appreciate my introducing them. To no one in particular. The first joke, Alice, suffers from depression. Actually. Clinically. She is 23 years old, and that is almost a guarantee of being depressed if you aren’t in love. The trouble with being depressed and loving God deeply, so far as I can tell as a mom, is that there is a lot of guilt around feeling despair. To know so much about God and who He is and have a strong faith in Him but that faith is challenged daily by the chemical demons in your brain is frustrating. I believe she feels that she is constantly disappointing God.
Now considering God is so much more loving, merciful and understanding than I am, I doubt He’s disappointed, because I am not. Frustrated, sometimes. Yes, indeedy. At my lack of ability to make her better; make her happy. I am pretty capable in most areas of my life, but in this, my hands are tied behind my back. I am rendered useless, in a material way.
With each of my children, there is a joy and there is pain. I feel for them, I want for them. I try to give them what I have, or what I believe will serve them well. What they need that I don’t have to give must come from the grace of God, so I am left to pray that He will fill in all the cracks of the fallen world so they can know Him and love Him with abandonment.
So I feed her and care for her. I pray and fast. And enjoy the good moments that come in between the difficult ones. To hear her laugh is truly one of my favourite sounds.